In These Moments
by thedorkmistress
Summary: One wonders where the heart really lies...


Hey it's been a while since I've posted Creese fanfic, and I've been holding out on this fic.

It's unbeta'd, so bear with me. However, I hope you all enjoy it and leave wonderful reviews!

Feedback is always welcomed, as long as it's fair.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own Person of Interest.

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Carter was soaked. The clothes she wore sticking to her body like a second skin. The heaviest of her clothing was her overcoat, it settling hard against her shoulders while her belt strained to keep her sagging wet pants up. Water was sloshing inside her boots, and every time she took a step, the wet fabric of her socks would pass uncomfortably between her toes. She felt as awful as she looked: exhausted and overwhelmingly angry.

Carter was soaked, because she was caught in the rain. And she was caught in the rain, because of Reese. Smoothing away a wet glob of her dark hair and blinking through the downpour, she glowered at the towering man before her, equally as disheveled, but obnoxiously enjoying it. It was as if he didn't realize he was the blame for this; comfortably oblivious to it, and that pissed Carter off.

John Reese was enigmatic without even knowing it, or if he did, he was so subtle about it you'd probably be sitting for days trying to figure it out. Carter knows this, because she's tried many of times to crack him. Ever since the meeting with him in her precinct with him homeless and very much broken, he had a way of drawing you in. Like a magnet searching for its polar opposite, he had her attention from the start. And now, if anything, it had gotten worse. She was finding herself in situations she never thought she'd be in, and all because of one man in a suit.

Running to catch up with his long strides, Carter replied impatiently, "If this place doesn't show up, I'm hailing a cab and leaving…"

"I didn't beg you to come with me, Carter," he answered, his voice carrying that soft and calm tone she's grown to dislike. As soothing as it sounded, the words coming from it always had a knack of irritating her. "We were done with our case hours ago…"

"Don't give me that bullshit, John," she answered angrily. "Last time I checked, losing a suspect doesn't mean a case was over. It means another wild goose chase across New York that _I_ will not be a part of!"

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Reese replied, bemused. "And you were such a big help tonight too."

Carter wanted to physically hurt him then, and she almost did; her hand reflexively reaching for her gun. But she was thrown off when Reese had abruptly stopped on the sidewalk. Falling into him, she grabbed onto his coat for support. When she regained her balance, she lightly hit him and asked, "What is it now?!"

"We're here," he said, and gestured toward the building before them.

It was one of those brownstone buildings, very big and very old. Green bushy foliage crawled up the sides of the building, curving around large rectangular windows as it sprouted toward the roof. More fresh greenery sat in front, framing the stoop steps that led to the door. A porch light flickered on as Reese climbed the steps, Carter seemingly frozen to the spot on the sidewalk as she watched him. Shaking herself out of it though, she called out, "This place better belong to you! I refuse to commit any more crimes with you…"

"Aren't you a little too late for that," he answered back, throwing a taunting look over his shoulder. But when she did not budge he sighed and added, "It's where I live, Carter."

As proof, Reese dangled a set of keys in view of her and proceeded to unlock the heavy security door to the building.

"Do you really want to stay out here and get pneumonia, or do you want that shelter you've been talking about all night, _detective_," Reese asked rather smugly, and leaned himself against the door's frame.

Frowning and ignoring his blatant attempt to provoke her, Carter pulled herself together and climbed the steps. When she entered the building, a cold shiver ran down her spine, making her feel rigid and just aware of how soaked she was. She hugged herself and looked around, surveying the dimly lit lobby, and grimaced at the metal stairway facing her.

"Don't worry there's a freight elevator," Reese told and pointed to the small rickety looking contraption near the stairs. "Though I usually take the stairs."

"Well good for you," she said, feigning praise and dragged her feet toward the elevator.

In fewer steps, Reese was in front of her, pulling the freight's gate open and allowing her first onto the platform. The old thing gave a little as she stepped on, and once again, Carter groped to keep herself on her feet, holding onto Reese's wet coat sleeve for balance. As the elevator's gate closed, she watched Reese push a red button near the front, and with a frightening lurch, the elevator rose. Not able to stop herself, Carter held onto Reese even tighter, not at all liking how her stomach bottomed out as the rising machine jerked along.

"You scared of heights, Carter," Reese asked, a chuckle present in his voice.

Jerking away from him, Carter threw her hand out in front of her, "No—is this it?"

Once again, she received a laugh from him; the sound becoming irritating with each waking minute. She followed him off the elevator and down a bare hallway, rounding a corner, until they stopped at a metal door. He shook out his set of keys and unlocked the door, pushing it open as he ushered Carter inside. She found herself walking into a very spacious loft apartment. The lights were off, but Carter could make out the outlines of furniture within the area easily. With a flip of a switch, the whole apartment was then filled with light, revealing a vase room worthy of some rich bachelor.

The floor beneath her feet was laid with dark wood while some of the walls were painted an off white. Looking up, the ceiling appeared reminiscent of an old industrial factory, its white painted over piping morphing into squared light fixtures. Pale colored column supports separated what looked to be the living area and the bedroom, adding an overall contemporary look to the loft. The living area was framed with a large black leather couch resting on a dark rug. It was messy with haphazardly laid pillows on it and a thin plaid blanket draped across it, as if Reese had been sleeping on it instead of his bed not too far away.

Speaking of which, his bed rested against an exposed brick wall, its frame carved amazingly out of light colored wood. The full mattress of the bed was dressed in a soft dark gray comforter with two pillows to match resting on top. A large red woodened armoire stood to the bed's left while a wooden table sat to its right near a tall window. Another table sitting near the front door was littered with random leafs of paper, an array of handguns, several cameras, and other technical devices Carter couldn't really identify. To her amazement, there was even a second floor to the flat, which was out of view, but probably held the kitchen and bathroom. Observing it all was somewhat overwhelming, leaving her in an awe she couldn't quite hide.

Hearing Reese clear his throat, Carter turned to him and found him holding a towel for her.

"The bathroom's upstairs to the right of the kitchen," he replied, nodding his head toward the set of wooden planked stairs. "And if you don't mind wearing men's clothes…"

"I was in fatigues for nearly four years, and in a police uniform for almost four more," Carter told, and flashed him a smile. "Don't treat me so delicately."

"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled, and for a moment, Carter caught something akin to warmth in those pale blue eyes of his.

Grabbing the towel from his hands, Carter walked up the stairs and entered the second landing. As she predicted, a kitchen rested up here bearing dark wooden cabinets and gray granite counters. It looked barely touched besides a few items of bagged food on one of the counters, an overused coffee machine, and a few dishes in the sink. Moving passed the kitchen, she went to the right as she was told and pulled open the door leading to the bathroom. The bathroom was average, but matched the contemporary style of the rest of the loft with a decent sized tiled shower with a frosted glass covering.

Looking around, she caught what little normalcy Reese had: a toothbrush resting in a holder along with some deodorant, toothpaste, and a bar of soap. It was odd seeing these very normal items in here, considering the illegal paraphernalia he had downstairs. It brought back all Carter had found out about him a few weeks ago. The woman he loved, the job he couldn't turn away from, and the tragedy that unfortunately resulted. In a way, they both shared a similar pain, but his was much more skin deep—it changed him. She didn't pity Reese, but she did feel something she couldn't quite identify. A longing to do something for him, to wipe away the sad look his eyes often held.

"Carter?"

She jumped. Foolish as it was, hearing him so suddenly had startled her; as if she'd been doing something she ought not to. Turning to see what he wanted, she saw him holding a set of clothes in his hands. Without warning, Carter grabbed the clothes and shooed him off. Reese, in return to her vivacious behavior, gave her an unexpected laugh, telling her he would be making coffee as she closed the door behind him.

The clothes he gave her weren't much: a pair of dark sweat pants and a very worn but clean dark green t-shirt. However, knowing he had worn these gave her a thrill she wish hadn't felt. Hesitantly, she gently pressed her nose to the shirt, falling into the scent of fresh detergent, cold metal, and gently spice she caught within it. She felt silly doing it, and upon realizing what she was doing, she sat the clothes quickly down.

Carter turned on the shower soon after, fooling with nozzle until the spraying water was comfortably warm. She then undressed, first peeling off her heavy coat and then her soggy pants. The cool air hitting her thighs made her undress even faster, stripping down so she could reach the shower's heat. When she did step into the shower, she allowed the water to pour all over her, sighing contently as chilled brown skin finally began to tickle with warmth. It was certainly a welcomed sensation; the water washing over her head and down her body soothingly. Spotting a bottle of body wash resting in the shower, she wavered in grabbing it. His scent would be all over her if she used it, and that in itself made her feel incredibly stupid but giddy all at the same time.

Popping the bottle's cap open, she lathered her body with the spicy smelling soap; Carter allowing herself to succumb to the calming ease of the quiet apartment. It seemed liked hours before she climbed out of the shower fresh and warm. She dried carefully, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders, and pulled on the new set of clothes. The sweats were a struggle to keep on while the t-shirt hung off one of her shoulders. She was uncomfortable at first; becoming extremely self-conscious at the fact she was wearing nothing else underneath. It also frustrated her to find some of her scars peeking through the shirt, but after a few tries of covering it, Carter gave up and proceeded to fold her wet clothes, stacking her boots on top while she carried her gun and holster with her out.

Bare feet against cold wood floor, she tiptoed out of the bathroom and spotted Reese standing before one of the large windows in his apartment. He had changed out of his own wet clothes and was now wearing a dark t-shirt and sweats, a sharp contrast to the man in a suit she'd been so accustomed to for months now. He was holding a cup of coffee in one hand and bracing the windowsill with the other, looking every bit of picturesque as he gaze over the big city. In spite of the beautiful night scenery though, Reese held an intense look. Carter wanted to capture this moment a little bit longer, to study it, but denial forced her to make her presence known, calling out to him as she walked over, "Nice place you have."

Now it was his turn to be caught off guard, Reese nearly missing where the mug met his lips when he took a sip of his coffee. Carter watched him turn toward her, the naked feeling creeping all over her again as he grew near. He looked playful now, the intense look he had before now gone from his eyes. In response to her statement, he replied, "It was a gift…from our mutual friend that I was…inclined to accept."

"You make it sound like it was an inconvenience," Carter said lightly and pointed to the steaming mug sitting on the kitchen bar's counter. "Is that mine?"

"Yes, and made to your liking," he told, keeping his eyes on her as she grabbed the mug.

"Knowing you, I don't doubt that," Carter replied, and took a small sip of her coffee. She was right. He had made it how she liked it: full of cream and sprinkled with little sugar. She groaned and swayed as the frothy drink ran down her throat, closing her eyes briefly to savor the flavor before she blurted out, "So good!"

"I take it you like it."

"I've been craving it all night!"

Content, Carter continued to drink her coffee until a warm buzz filled her stomach, sitting the now empty mug onto the counter after the warmth settled. Reese, finishing his own, gathered the two mugs and placed them into the sink. He then went to his fridge and muttered, "Do you want anything to eat?"

"What do you have?"

"Leftovers…"

Carter snorted and rolled her eyes, "So no real food?"

"Well…I don't really cook," Reese told, pulling out a white container to put into the nearby microwave. He then set its timer, and turned to her, "Is that a yes or a no?"

Spotting the grocery bag she had seen earlier, she found it filled with fruit. She reached inside and pulled out a red apple, waving it in front of her as her answer before taking a big bite out of it. Reese responded with a slight shrug, and distracted himself with his Thai smelling leftovers. After resetting the microwave, he then turned back to Carter and asked, "How's Taylor doing?"

"Fine, considering all that's happened," she said carefully, briefly recalling the frightening events involved when they had taken down Elias. "I mean that's what he _tells_ me, but I'm not so sure. I try to keep it sparse though—he'll tell me more when he's ready."

"Where is he now," he went on casually, the both of them falling into easy familiarity as they talked.

"Thankfully with his grandmother," she answered, and moved around the separate counter to throw away her apple core, "Which I'm very glad for considering the _hell_ I went through tonight."

Reese chuckled and as the microwave rang, he took out his leftovers and sat them onto the counter, "Tonight wasn't all bad. We know now he was never associated with human trafficking."

"Yeah, because selling meth is _so_ much better," Carter mocked with another roll of her eyes. Apparently the peace couldn't last long; Carter being reminded why this man infuriated her. "And now I'm stuck with you…"

"You make it sound so awful," Reese said, and took a bite from his late dinner. "I can think of worse places to be than spending some time with me."

"I bet you can, but for my benefit, being around you should be considered a hazard," she told.

"Then humor me, detective," he prompted, turning to face her with food in hand. "Why exactly am I such a hazard?"

"I can simply point to the various _things_ you have in your living room to give you proof," she started off. "I'm almost certain those handguns down there were stolen, and I don't even want to know what those wires are for."

"Is that it?"

"No! There's a lot more! Like your tendency to ignore the law. Your blatant disregard of all forms of authority! Your asshole attitude! Your teasing!"

Carter had listed these off her fingers for added affect, punctuating each syllable she spoke with so much force it exhausted her, "You…You have a willingness to do things on your _own_ without realizing you have others to help you. You hide everything. You make me worry about you…"

When her words trailed off, the flat descended into silence. She felt embarrassed, and to a greater extent, incredibly foolish. What did she think she was doing? Appealing to him? Making him _feel_ better with her words? Or maybe she was finally letting slip the things she's been hiding herself. Whatever the reason, Carter felt she made things awkward. Forcing herself to laugh it off, she raised her head she hadn't known she lowered and fumbled out, "F-Forget I said anything. It's not important."

She expected him to be cold about it, but what he did instead was much more shocking. Without warning, Reese tugged her forward and pressed his lips atop her head, resting there for few seconds while his fingers lightly played with her hair. When he released her, she was stunned, barely catching his statement about going to get ready for bed as he left.

It was like opening Pandora's Box, the flood of misfortune now altered to a bleeding of small yearning, and it spooked her. The simple gesture, if you could call it that, had felt like white hot lightning. Moving out of the kitchen, she made her way down the steps, and into the living room below, plopping herself onto the leather couch as she began to think. Carter, a homicide detective who's put away plenty of criminals by interrogation alone, was stumped by the actions of one man. It one part infuriated her and one part made her strangely satisfied. In a way, it validated her feelings; made them stronger. But was this right? Was it smart?

She was running herself up a wall—worrying about things that haven't happened. As far as she knew, the kiss was just a kiss. It wasn't an omission to anything, or a guarantee their feelings were mutual. However, thinking about this maturely wasn't winning the battle inside her heart. A cliché in every sense of the phrase, but it was true. Deep down, she really wanted to be reckless with her emotions, to show him just how he truly affected her.

"So you've moved down here."

Staring up, Carter suddenly took in the freshly bathed form of Reese. He stood before her in nothing but a pair of pajama pants; his chest bare and a towel hanging around his shoulders. He was built as his aged permitted, not firm but strong, and riddled with scarring both new and old. However, it wasn't his physicality that engaged her. It was instead, his straightforward demeanor, and it stirred her to think impulsively. But she quickly put a cap on it when he rounded to the couch and sat next to her.

"You're a fine study, Carter," he said, giving her a glance over.

"And that means," she asked, not entirely sure how she should take such a statement. It was out of the blue, and very obscure. And if there was one thing Carter disliked about Reese it was his tendency to be vague.

"You're…interesting," Reese stated, and as if to distract himself, he began dismantling a gun she hadn't noticed was on the coffee table. Once the gun was in parts, he started to clean it, clearing his throat as he went on, "We shouldn't be a good fit, but we are. And though you might say otherwise, you make me do things I don't often want to. You drive me crazy sometimes, because you won't back down—stubborn even."

"All within reason," Carter said, finding the need to defend herself. "Someone has to be there to tell you _no_ when you want to do something stupid. Hell, most of the time it doesn't even work, but—"

"I like that you do, Carter," he said, pausing in his work to look at her. "I don't know why, but I do."

Carter smirked to herself and leaned against the couch, "We really are a something else. How do we even function?"

For a second time they fell silent, Reese continuing to clean his gun while Carter played with the blanket on the couch. The quiet was comfortable, but a twinge of tension hung low in the air. Shifting on the couch, Carter watched Reese put his gun back together, sliding the barrel to reset the carriage before he sat the whole gun back down onto the table. He then pulled the towel around his shoulders off and tossed it next to the table, his line of sight suddenly meeting Carter's as he relaxed against the couch.

"I'll take the couch, and you can have the bed..."

"Kiss me."

The words tumbled out of her mouth without warning, and when it dawned on her what she had said, Carter clamped her mouth shut and slapped her hand to her head. It had come out of nowhere, and even she couldn't understand how or why it did. Her thoughts were muddled together telling her several different things all at once, and now she just felt mortified.

"Carter?"

"I…I don't know where that came from," Carter breathed out, hating how her voice cracked as she talked. "It's late and we're so…"

Her heart beat skipped a beat then, and suddenly she felt movement next to her. It was a hesitating shift of cushioned leather followed by the feel of fingers pushing back her damp hair. She was turned to face him, the hammering of her heart never ceasing as he leaned in close. He then kissed her; his lips pressing against her own with tenderness she thought he never would still have. However, the kiss was brief, and it left her lips tingling as her chest grew impossibly heavy. He placed another kiss on her forehead, pulling on her to lie on top of him as he lay across the couch. Through many grunting and maneuvering, they were comfortably entwined on the couch with the plaid blanket over them. They continued to not say a word to each other, letting the quiet lull them into a state of comfort. It was strange, but very familiar to Carter to be like this—to have a pair of arms around her and a chest to lie on. Therefore, it didn't take her long for fall asleep, and even less for him to follow.


End file.
